i honestly have no idea what this is.

skies are grey and cloudy out in every direction,
i can't tell whether it's weather or another infection.
motorcyclist killed by a big mac truck on the highway,
eat fresh, yeah, i'm lovin' it, baby, doin' it my way.
catch up or be made into ketchup, this is the modern age,
not modern warfare, but close enough, on the final page.
page? what? can you define that for me?
i just scroll down the screen until i like what i see.
let's face it: the only paper we'll ever need
is for rap music videos or purchasing weed,
because everyone is plastic and i don't mean with credit -
even though i know i'm not the only one to have said it.
we're all fabricated images, we're only accepted by
lubricated imaginations with no need to question why.
either that, or we're real and we're feared,
because we've never liked the truth as it has ever appeared.
that's why man invented media and media trends,
because it's all about advertisement and means to the ends.
who needs a magic bullet? make some homemade cement!
it's not the only useless thing we've tried to invent.
we only buy this junk because we're drunk on media truth,
used to modify and multiply and sell back our youth.
and we buy it and hide the receipt so we can deny it,
justifying it by rolling it up and smoking or frying it.
supersize that please, no need to see my knees,
i'll just complain at a later date when i'm paying fees
for exra seats in vehicles whose specific fabrication
allows and even advertises blatant humiliation.
we all want to be small and yet the standard is not,
and no one seems to realize that "normal" is not sought.
you know we set the bar, right? those jeans are far too tight.
just put your sweats back on and kiss your fries goodnight.
google it up and seek out another diet,
set your mind to a mindset where you're willing to try it,
or change the standards under which your live is governed now,
because although we fear the change, it's got to happen somehow.
we're all fat and lazy, or drunk or drugged or crazy,
and the inconvient truth is that the sky's remaining hazy.
where did the seasons go? everything just stays the same,
and though there once were four, it's really just a name.
i don't even know what i'm babbling about, i'm just bored.
getting tired of an internet that i've already whored,
and i'm done with all the same old ways of wasting minutes, man.
i'm just like everyone else - got no attention span.
every day we pick up something new, we never follow through,
it comes back to the change that we're all freakin' allergic to.(achoo!)
whatever, 'cause the fact of the matter is we can all complain,
and boy do we ever, but we never seem to find refrain.
we all want things to fix themselves, which must mean they're broken,
but for all the problems named, no solutions are spoken -
well, actions speak louder than words, but who wants to start?
being different and liked is an extinct art.
and so we stick to where it's safe in eternal procrastination
in a distinct lack of revelation sweeping the nation.
and we amuse ourselves with reality only on the TV
when the real reality is everything we don't see.
kids raised in developed worlds living without a home
snorting powder off of a mirror 'cause they're angry and alone
addicting themselves to the closest thing to safety they've had
because at least if it's the same then it can't be that bad
and while they're killing themselves, other kids are killing each other
watching foreign second graders blow the head off their brother
watching hundreds of angry men hurling stones at their mother
and wondering if they should join in or look the other
way, because there's no such thing as stopping death
making change in the world where we all waste breath.
and if someone else doesn't get you, you might as well split
so pick your poison or your rope or which wrist you can slit.
this got dark all of a sudden, so let's turn on a light.
don't worry - some religion out there has to be right.
if we wait for long enough, someone'll save the day
so let's sit back, relax, and just hope to be okay.

ahahahahahahahahahahaha:

tell me, anyone, have we located our saviour yet?
well nevermind, he's probably busy surfin' the internet.